Canadian Bacon
by thewerepuppy
Summary: Beck Oliver is planning on spending his summer vacation in Canada, moping in his R.V. He never counted on meeting an equally broken-hearted blonde demon named Sam Puckett.
1. Chapter 1: The Falls

**A/N: Do you know what I can't seem to find? A story about Sam Puckett and Beck Oliver. Do you know what I can't seem to do? Get this idea out of my head. Do you know what I don't own? Neither iCarly nor Victorious, so please don't sue me. Please. Think of the children.**

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><p><strong><span>CHAPTER ONE: THE FALLS<span>  
><strong>

He could still hear the ferocious crash of Niagra Falls, but Beck Oliver had trekked far enough away from the bustling tourists to feel a sense of peace. He sauntered a familiar path that ran alongside the river, a secluded trail that Beck and his father had discover when Beck was a little kid. They would often take vacations to the national park and lose themselves in the wilderness.

An entire summer away from Hollywood was like a dream. Beck knew there were some great perks to living in L.A., predominantly the opportunity to pursue his love of performing, of assuming another identity and getting in another person's skin. That was part of why he loved acting - other people fascinated him.

That said, there were definite drawbacks to Hollywood. While many people adored the perpetual sunshine, Beck itched to witness the seasons changing, to feel the cold bite of winter or crunch through a russet flurry of leaves in the fall.

He quickly grew bored of beaches and cookie-cutter starlets who flashed their impossibly white teeth at him. They cared only for advancing their careers for fame and money, and the utter falseness of them depressed him. At school he was thankful to have a group of friends who genuinely cared about performing simply for the thrill of it, and for the chance to share their joy with others. Well, his friends and Trina.

Jade had once been the antidote to the cheesy manufactured glitz. She had immediately caught his attention with her pale skin and subversive clothes, and maintained it with the fact that she didn't care whether or not people liked her artistic endeavors. If she liked it, that was enough.

Jade West was real. If she didn't like you, she wouldn't pretend to, or even say things behind your back. She would outright say it. If you annoyed her, she'd make sure you'd pay. If you upset her, she cried - though never in public. Feelings were private with her, and if you wanted to share them you'd have to earn it.

At just over two years, it was the longest and most intense relationship that Beck had ever committed to, and he would never forget it. But a few months ago he had sensed that things simply weren't clicking anymore between himself and Jade. What had been flirtatious banter and gentle snark had turned to tension and snappiness, from both of them. He hated it - to feel any dislike for someone he cared about so deeply.

The night when she had been stood out on Tori's porch counting down the demise of their relationship, a big part of him had wanted to wrench the door open and hold Jade in his arms as tightly as he could, spinning her and laughing with her.

But something had broken. Things were not like they used to be. The idea of sticking with Jade and committing to the bitter arguments, the awkward silences, the veiled hatred...he wouldn't do that to her. He'd seen how a strong bond of love could rot. He remembered his parents being deliriously happy when he was younger. Not so anymore. They remained married and they lived together, but they were living as strangers. They rarely spoke to one another and, if they did, they voiced comments injected with poison and bile. If they would only divorce he was sure things would be better, but they were stubborn, and remained together out of spite.

Beck was so pleased to have the R.V. He could no longer live in a household under such pressurized stress, and rarely ventured into the main house for anything other than food and the use of the bathroom. His trailer was a sanctuary. Also, rather handily, it was a sanctuary that had wheels and could go anywhere he wanted and so, with his parents' permission, he had driven it to a little-known campground in Niagra Falls National Park and set up there for the summer.

There were only a couple of other R.V.s dotted around, some of them currently empty as they were used as vacation places all year round. As he arrived back in the fading sunlight, he inhaled the cool air happily and closed his eyes to listen the sounds of the birds, coming in to rest for the night in the wooded areas surrounding the camp.

The calm, and his meditative state, were interrupted, however, as the sound of angry cursing invaded his ears. Beck frowned slightly before opening his eyes, and searching for the source of the noise.

* * *

><p>Sam Puckett officially decided that she hated tents. No, in fact, hate wasn't strong enough a word. She flat-out loathed tents. Especially this tent. She'd gotten the gist of the instructions before spitting her gum into them and tossing them aside. She had stuck a bunch of poles together, as advised, but making them taught without them springing out of position and thwacking her painfully in the arm was proving impossible. She growled and hurled the metal frames aside, deciding instead to unfurl the actual tent material and see if she could somehow prop it up from underneath.<p>

Beck watched the blonde, and found a smile of amusement traced across his face as she got tangled up in the tent canvas, flailing around and yelling muffled obscenities before tripping on a bag of tent pegs and landing in the scattered pile of poles. He felt bad but couldn't help but chuckle at her situation. Still, ever the gentleman, he decided to go and give her a hand.

As he reached her, Sam was oblivious and continued to kick and fight against the tent until she finally managed to free herself, panting and glowering at her captor. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of tearing the thing to shreds, when a voice made her jump and she whirled around, looking flustered.

"Uh…hey," Beck said with a friendly smile and an awkward wave. "You alright over here?"

Sam blinked at him, looking dazed, then spouted a bunch of incoherent bits of words before staring at her sneakers in embarrassment, defeated.

Beck raised an eyebrow and yet again found himself battling the urge to laugh. "I noticed you were fighting with your tent, there. And…I think the tent was winning."

Sam shot a narrow glare at the unassembled pieces on the ground. "It won't be winning when I smash it up and throw it in the river," she said in a low voice, as if for the tent's benefit.

"Hmm, I think the park rangers might frown upon that," he said, crouching down to begin collecting the poles together.

Sam simply stood there, feeling her cheeks burn red. It wasn't enough that someone had seen her lose her pride completely (and look like a total idiot in the process), but that that someone also had to be the most handsome boy she'd ever laid eyes on.

Even in the best of situations she didn't really know how to act around attractive boys. It generally involved not speaking to them, and leaving the effortless flirtation to Carly. She'd only ever had one proper relationship – with Freddie – but even then she'd felt hugely out of her depth and it had lasted barely a month. She'd pretty much resigned herself to being single forever. It was so much less work. So why exactly was she feeling self-conscious? Suck it up, Puckett.

"Stupid thing won't do what I tell it to," she grumbled as she passed him a pole. It wasn't quite admitting to needing help, but he seemed to be happy helping anyway.

"Tents aren't really known for their obedience," he winked, making the girl avoid eye contact and pretend she hadn't been looking at his butt as he was bending over. "Do you have the instructions?"

"Um…" Sam searched around her and then fetched the screwed up piece of paper.

Beck raised an eyebrow as she handed it to him, unfolding it and finding strings of sticky bubblegum hindering the process. He wrinkled his nose and she offered a nervous smile when he looked at her.

"Did you get mad at the instructions too?" he smirked.

"They were in cahoots."

"Ah, I see," he laughed. "Well not to worry. Seems like a pretty standard dome tent, I shouldn't have a problem getting it up."

Sam looked at him, and he paused, thinking over what he had said.

"The tent," he backtracked hurriedly. "I meant that I can get the tent up, not that-"

"-It's cool," she laughed it off and he chuckled uneasily before clearing his throat.

"Yeah, so, how come your friends aren't here to help you?" he asked as he began fitting the poles together.

She frowned. "Um, because they're not here. I came on my own."

"Oh," Beck replied, surprised. "I guess I just assumed, 'cause, y'know…this is a three man tent."

"Well maybe I'm going to bring back three men later on," she said, before blushing yet again. "JOKE," she added quickly.

Her perceived mistake wasn't lost on him, but he chose to ignore it since she'd been so kind to let his own faux pas slide. "Well I guess you need the room for your stuff, too," he said, gesturing over to where a suitcase and a checkered rucksack sat on the grass with a rolled-up sleeping bag.

"Oh that's mostly just snacks," she explained. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"Oh no," Beck said with mock concern. "I think it's best for everyone if you don't touch the tent until it's pitched."

"Ha ha," she said, completely deadpan.

Another thick cloud of awkward fell on them as Beck worked and Sam shifted her weight from foot to foot, simultaneously watching him and pretending not to watch him. It annoyed her because she felt like a pathetic damsel in distress.

"Well, I guess I'll go and check out where everything is," she suggested. "Gotta know where I can take a waz, right?"

He let out a short laugh from under the tent canvas, and Sam smiled as she began to wander away.

"Don't get lost in the woods or anything!" he called to her, poking his head out from under the material. He was slightly worried that this little blonde girl who got beaten by a tent might be a hazard to herself.

"I won't!" she said, irritated by his concern.

"Try not to get eaten by bears, Goldilocks!" he added playfully, before going back to his work.

She stiffened and shot a warning glance back at him, but relaxed when she found he wasn't paying attention. Still, it riled her, and she confirmed to herself that silly ideas of romance were definitely not something to dwell on with this guy.

* * *

><p>She stretched as she walked, gazing up at the sky and noticing that the stars were already starting to burst through the decreasing daylight.<p>

Sam had decided to spend the summer away on a whim more than anything. Carly and Spencer were gone visiting their dad anyway, so the webshow was on its annual hiatus. Gibby was on some family trip to Yerba or something, which left her and the nub.

Freddie wasn't going anywhere this summer since his mother was still so low on funds after her ill-advised chicken investment. Sam couldn't stand the idea of hanging out as just a twosome, acting like things were just as they were a year ago and suffering through agonising silences.

Instead she just took off one night, leaving a note for her mother (who wouldn't care too much anyway) that explained how to reach her if she needed to.

She hopped on a series of buses and decided that Canada was where she wanted to be. Her stomach was crying out for a fix of their fat cakes anyway - they'd been on her mind since her trip to the factory, which had totally been worth being accidentally shipped to Malaysia (though Spencer, Carly and Freddie hadn't been impressed with the paperwork that was necessary to get her back).

At the border she had pretended she was with a middle-aged couple because she knew they wouldn't let her through as an unaccompanied minor. From there she stocked up on fat cakes, snuck onto a tour bus, and ended up wandering aimlessly along various trails around Niagra Falls until she found a campground with the least amount of people. She never really liked people.

She hadn't been camping since she was younger, when she'd sometimes snuck out to the nearest wilderness she could find and pitch up for the weekend, just to get away from her mother more than anything. Whenever her mom had a new boyfriend over, Sam wanted to be elsewhere. Nowadays she had Carly's apartment to escape to - but even that seemed less of a haven with Freddie across the hall.

She whistled as she reached the small breeze-block building at the other end of the site. The block was separated for men and women, with a single tap sticking out from the outside wall for drinking water.

Her sneakers squeaked as she entered, checking out the facilities. There were five bathroom stalls, five shower stalls, and a row of sinks down the middle, separating them. There was some paint peeling from the wall, some mold dotting the ceiling, and a few spiders in the corners, but none of it bothered Sam. She wasn't paying for five-star luxury.

But she was paying for a place on the site, and she didn't have access to a whole lot of cash. The only way she would be able to stay for the whole summer, would be to get a job. She shuddered at the thought, and crushed a spider under her foot angrily. She stared at its smooshed body on the ground and sighed.

"Sorry, man. Bad day," she murmured guiltily, before dragging her feet back to camp.

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><p>When she returned, she was amazed at how quickly the boy had managed to get the tent actually looking like a tent and not just a bunch of random pieces.<p>

"Wow, you're like the camping master!" she praised, before yawning theatrically. "Well, I guess I should hit the hay."

"Um, I'm not finished yet," Beck explained, chuckling. "That's just the inner."

She looked at him, frowned slightly, and cocked her head on one side.

"We gotta cover it with the outer and peg it down, otherwise if it rains, you're gonna get soaked."

"Oh..." she muttered, back to feeling like an idiot girly girl. "I knew that," she added defensively, grabbing hold of the outer canvas.

The boy took the other side of it and together they hauled it over the frame and hammered the pegs and ropes into place.

"There. That should hold her," he said with a proud smile, twanging one of the ropes.

"Yup."

They stood there for a few moments, admiring their work. Sam felt pretty awkward. Was he expecting something in return? She certainly wasn't going to invite him in, if that was what he was hoping for. Heck, if that was what he wanted, she would-

"Right, so I better be getting back," the boy interrupted her thoughts, and pointed a thumb back to his trailer. "You try not to get into any more trouble with the tent, alright?" he grinned.

She narrowed her eyes, but coupled it with smirk before saying, "I think it's tame now."

He hovered a moment, and Sam remembered how 'thank you' had never really been in her vocabulary. "I owe you," she decided. It wasn't a fluttery, flirtatious 'you saved me!'. More a friendly 'I appreciate it, bro' that said she was just a friend. Just one of the guys. She hoped it was enough to repel any crush he had.

He waved her down. "Gotta make my time as a boy scout worth something. Besides, it gave me something to do," he assured her. Anything to take his mind off Jade. And at least this girl wasn't fawning after him. He liked her for that. He began to saunter back to his trailer.

"Night," Sam called, smiling.

"Sleep well," he replied brightly.

* * *

><p><strong>ANII: I don't really know what to christen this ship. Um...Bam? Seck? Olivett? Puckiver?**

**Ha! Puckiver! At least I crack myself up...**

**Tune in next time, when they'll actually find out what each other's name is. Oh, and there will be some stuff that's way more exciting than just that, because a whole chapter about names would suck.**

**Also this story takes some inspiration (but not much) from a little-known-but-still-awesome TV show called 'Wonderfalls'. Look it up on YouTube: funny stuff.**

**So...thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2: No Rest For The Wicked

**A/N: I am very late with posting this. I was gonna list a whole load of excuses (mostly lies such as 'I lead a double life as a sexy secret agent'), but I figured, you know what? Who cares? Let's forget the past and move forward - much like Simba in The Lion King, except with less singing, and not in Africa.**

**CHAPTER TWO: NO REST FOR THE WICKED**

It was still dark out when Beck awoke. He screwed up his bleary eyes and blinked a few times before he was able to focus on the clock by his bed.

The little green digital numbers glowed 6:07. He groaned and tugged the covers up over his face, feeling like it was unnatural to be awake so early.

Still, after half an hour of restless snoozing, he finally gave in and decided that, since he was up, he may as well go and see the sun come up. Maybe he could even find some inspiration that would break his bout of writers block. He pulled on some jeans, a vest top and his boots, grabbed a flashlight, and set off.

Having been to this exact campground a number of times in the past, Beck knew which trails were best to lead to an amazing view. He chose one that would take him east, remembering from Shakespeare that that was where he could see the sunrise best.

_'What light through yonder window breaks? 'Tis the east, and Juliet is the sun.'_

The irony wasn't lost on him. After all, his east used to be West.

Sighing, he shook the thoughts of Jade from his mind and hiked higher and higher, thoroughly enjoying the calm. Other than the distant roar of the Falls, the only sounds were the whispering river and the growing chorus of chirrups as the local bird life began to rouse from their sleep.

As the sky started to gain colour and lose some of its stars, Beck quickened his pace. Before he knew it, he was there. He'd been a little worried that maybe others had discovered this plateau and it might be plagued by tourists who only wanted to see the panorama through fuzzy digital screens, but nobody was there. Just Beck. Just nature.

He wiped sweat from his forehead and sat on a rock, taking in the vista before him with a joyous look on his face. The sun spread a golden sheen across the wilderness.

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><p>About an hour later, Beck sauntered cheerfully back to the campground and went to grab his stuff so he could take a shower at the bathroom block.<p>

Padding across the short grass, he passed the tent he'd help assemble. Soft snoring emanated from within so Beck tiptoed past, chuckling quietly to himself.

He liked the awkward girl he'd met last night. It was nice to meet someone his own age around here, someone who wasn't some processed plastic girl. Someone real.

When he had arrived here yesterday he was still so mopey and conflicted and wazzed off, but simply witnessing the girl's adorable clumsiness had cheered him up. He found himself hoping to see her again.

The idea of a relationship never even crossed his mind. He just wanted someone to hang out with - like Cat or Tori. Something that wasn't complicated, or likely to cause pain further down the line.

* * *

><p>Sam was furious at the sun. When it wasn't a school day she rarely got up much before noon, and generally relished the opportunity to lie around all day.<p>

However, as the sun got higher in the sky, its rays beat down harder on the cheap tent material, making the interior uncomfortably hot.

She produced a guttural growl as she sat up, checking her phone. 08:27am. For Sam, it was pretty much the same as 03:00am, and she wasn't happy. Still, she knew she had to at least open the tent up and let in some air.

She unzipped the door and threw the sides open, immediately welcoming the breeze and taking big gasps. She lay there on her belly for a moment to cool off, her bottom half still under a blanket, her top half resting on the grass outside.

As her mind began to whir out of slumber and back into action, she remembered the irritating fact that she was going to have to go job-hunting today. For that, she needed a work permit. For that, she needed to meet up with her cousin Faye, and hope she wasn't in jail right now.

* * *

><p>Sam was just polishing off a cheeseburger when her PearPhone rang. She answered, managing to get melted cheese residue on the screen.<p>

"Yello?"

"Hi Sam!" Carly's familiar cheery voice sounded through the phone. "What's up?"

"Hey! Not much, really."

"I figured you'd be at my place. I tried calling there a few times but got nothing - and what up with not replying to any of my texts yesterday?"

Sam frowned slightly and briefly took the greasy phone from her ear to check the screen - seven messages flashed in the corner. "Only just got 'em. I guess there isn't much signal up here."

There was a pause on the line. "Up where? Where are you?"

"Behind you." Another pause. "Made ya look."

"Ha ha," the brunette deadpanned. "Seriously, where are you? You better not be on the school roof again."

Sam rolled her eyes and leaned back on the bench she was sitting on. "Geesh, one time, and you're blamed for life."

"You had to be rescued by three firemen and a helicopter!" Carly laughed.

"It's not my fault if the school overreacted," she defended with a grin. "I didn't really NEED rescuing."

"Oh yeah? Then how come you were up there for ten hours, hmm?"

"...I was enjoying the view."

Carly giggled again.

"Anyway," the blonde explained, "I'm not on the roof. I'm in Canada."

"What? Sorry, the reception here is janked. I actually just thought you said you were in Canada."

"I did," Sam drained the last of her soda. "I am."

"Wait...so, your mom took you to Canada? And they were cool with you going back after...you know...?"

Sam pondered a moment. For some reason, though it was easy to lie to pretty much everyone else on the planet, she always struggled to lie to her best friend. It was like she wielded some sort of special truth power.

"Carls," she said slowly (and a little reluctantly), "if I explain something to you, do you promise to just let me finish what I'm saying without freaking out?"

She heard a sigh on the phone. "Are you in prison?" the brunette's voice whispered.

"No..." Sam laughed meekly.

"Okay..." Carly giggled a little nervously. "Then go ahead."

Once Sam had explained the situation and convinced Carly that she would be perfectly alright staying out in the wilderness in a country she probably wasn't even allowed to be in, Carly eventually relented.

She wasn't exactly thrilled about the whole thing, but she knew Sam was an independent spirit. There was also 'the unspoken thing' to consider. 'The unspoken thing' was just that - unspoken. Still, Carly was acutely aware that Sam's overwhelming desire to escape for the summer had something to do with Freddie.

With that in mind, she decided (against her better judgement), that maybe it would be good for her friend to take a vacation. If nothing else, it was an improvement on the insane asylum.

"...So your cousin's gonna hook you up with a work permit? I thought you said work was for losers?"

"It is, but a girl's gotta eat, right?" Sam shrugged.

"Well I'm not happy with the whole illegal factor," Carly pointed out, "but I guess working for food is slightly better than stealing it. It's the lesser of two evils."

"Well I consider working to be the MORE evil one, but I'm glad you're on side. I've just been out to see Faye to get the permit."

"Faye?" Carly questioned, trying to place another of Sam's vast menagerie of relatives.

"Yeah, you know Faye. Faye Dee? Middle name, Kai?"

"..."

"She got arrested in 2002 for mooning the Pope?"

"...Oh yeah! How is she?"

"Pretty fat. I don't think she'll be mooning anyone else any time soon - it'd take her all day to pull down her jeans."

Carly snorted.

For a moment Sam wondered whether or not she should mention the boy she'd met last night. After all, he had been making some rather vivid cameos in her mind, despite her best efforts to dismiss him.

However, as she was about to speak, Spencer invaded the line.

"Carly? Carly! I need your help!"

"Spencer, I'm on the phone."

"I met this guy at the docks and he said he can give us a hundred lobsters for free if we go down there right now!" Spencer explained animatedly.

"What? Spencer, what are we gonna do with one hundred- hey!"

"C'mon, we're gonna miss it!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh as she listened in to the usual Shay insanity.

"Sam, I gotta go. But you keep in touch!" Carly ordered.

"Aye aye, captain!" the blonde replied.

She ended the call, glanced towards the tacky gift shop district, and groaned as she dragged her feet towards a job.

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><p>By mid afternoon, Sam had still had no luck. She'd traipsed through numerous stores asking for work, but none were particularly willing to take a chance on a sarcastic teenager who lacked any tact with the customers (she told one man he didn't need to buy any fudge because "you've clearly had your fair share in life. Any more is just greedy").<p>

Last shop. Last chance.

This one was even more packed with customers than the last, and Sam had to squeeze her way past various clumps of tourists before she eventually reached a guy in a blue and orange shirt with a nametag. Nobody wore clothes like that by choice.

"Uh hey," she said, trying her best to look vaguely pleasant by managing a half-smile. "Do you work here?"

The man looked like he'd just been told that the world would end unless he could figure out how to recite Shakespeare in Japanese. A film of sweat lay on his forehead, his eyebrows were scrunched up, and he was wringing his hands.

It took him a moment to fully register the question, before he seemed to use what was left of his energy to look her in the eye. "I'm the manager," he stated, as though he'd just informed her that he had leprosy.

It seemed his statement was like a siren call, because suddenly every disgruntled customer in the place honed in on him, babbling requests and shoving trinkets under his nose to explain what was wrong with them.

One particular woman with a sharp, pointed face, was very vocal about her problems. "This is absolutely disgusting, is this really how you run a business? I've been waiting in line for almost three entire minutes!"

"Yeah, how long are we expected to stand here like idiots?" a pudgy man asked, before poking a stubby finger in the trembling manager's chest.

Out of instinct Sam grabbed the customer's beefy hand and swung it around, pinning it harshly up against the man's back in one swift motion.

"Aargh, are you crazy?" he squealed, powerless.

"Poking isn't polite," Sam informed him calmly, before twisting his arm tighter. "Apologize."

"I...I...I'm sorry," the man sniffed, trying his best to look back at Sam as his eyes watered.

"Not to me. To the dude you poked!" she nudged him and he stumbled forward as she let go.

He looked at the dumbfounded manager and sniffed again, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said gently.

"Thanks...?" the manager replied eventually.

The man hurried back to the queue, clutching his arm. By this point most of the eyes in the store were trained upon Sam - not that it put off the snooty female customer.

"We're STILL waiting!" she snapped, folding her arms and tapping her foot like some sort of impatient cartoon.

"What is your problem?" Sam frowned at her. "The man's working his butt off. And seriously, what are you in such a hurry for, anyway? You're old and retired! All you've got is time!"

The woman simply stared at her, mouth gaping open, before a storm gathered on her face, she dropped her basket on the floor, and marched out.

Sam gave a short laugh before shaking her head and turning back to the bewildered manager. "So, anyway, I just wanted to know if you had any jobs going-

"You're hired!" he spluttered before she could finish.

The blonde raised her eyebrows and gave an unsure smile. "What? Are you serious?"

The little man nodded vigorously, beckoning her to follow him to the staff area. He wasn't quite sure why he'd made such an instantaneous decision - perhaps he had respected the way she had handled serious pressure with little effort.

...Or perhaps he was a little scared of saying no.

* * *

><p>Beck was somewhat glad there was no phone reception at the campground. There was an underrated peace to being disconnected. Since he'd wound his way back up to civilization for the day his phone exploded with a series of buzzes and bleeps. Texts. Missed calls. They'd have to wait. One annoyance at a time.<p>

The goal was to get the whole annoying tourist-y thing out of the way as early as possible. Since Cat had brought up the idea of Beck bringing back gifts for everybody, he had reluctantly agreed. Now he was on a mission for Canadian trinkets.

He had hoped that the gift shop district wouldn't be as busy this early in the summer season, but his hopes were soon dashed. The shops by the Falls were already swarming with excitable tourists, 'ooh'ing and 'aah'ing over tacky snowglobes and decorative jars of maple syrup. Still, since he was here, he figured he may as well get the shopping over with. He took a deep breath, and lost himself in the crowd.

* * *

><p>Sam's induction to gift shop work was pretty brief. She signed about a dozen documents without really looking at them, and was introduced to her supervisor – a vacant-looking individual with a nasally voice who spent most of his time breathing through his mouth. He instantly didn't like Sam, after witnessing how she had acted, but that was fine. Sam didn't like him either. He gave her a bunch of orders, and she carried them out with the minimal amount of effort.<p>

Right now Sam was struggling in her attempts to restock the shelves, infuriated by the noisy, sticky hordes of customers who messed up every display they touched. Battling under the weight of a huge box of 'Maid Of The Mist' sweatshirts, she couldn't see where she was going. Instead she just hoped that people would sense her aura of hostility and simply move out of the way.

Meanwhile Beck had just found the perfect present for Cat on one of the lowest shelves, and happened to stand up from where he'd been crouching at precisely the wrong moment. He came up right underneath the box Sam had been holding, tipping it up and sending the contents all over the floor.

With a short fuse on a good day, Sam officially lost it. "Hey! Watch where you're going, you..." her furious growling subsided when she looked up and met the boy's dark eyes. "...You," she said, more softly, before clearing her throat and feeling a surge of humiliation.

"I'm really sorry," Beck said genuinely, before his eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh it's you! Well, if I'd known you worked here, I definitely would have been more careful," he winked.

She shot him a sarcastic laugh before bending down to retrieve the sweatshirts, glad for the excuse to be able to break eye contact and at least ease some of her awkwardness. When he instinctively kneeled down to help, Sam found herself resenting him – '_This is the second time he's just shown up like some...knight in ruggedly handsome amour...wait, what?'_

"Sam," the boy broke her internal monologue, and she looked at him quizzically.

"...Huh?"

"Your name tag," Beck pointed, smiling. "Unless you borrowed that shirt from some other Sam. Which I guess is plausible."

"Why would I borrow someone else's gross uniform?" she asked, somewhat bitterly, screwing up a sweatshirt and hurling it back into its box.

He knew the girl was angry, but he endeavored to be charming to try and break her out of her bad mood. "Well, it looks kinda big on you, that's all," he replied calmly, folding a sweatshirt and placing it in the box.

"It was the smallest size they had," Sam grumbled, still avoiding his gaze.

"I'm Beck, by the way," he grinned, holding out his hand as they both stood up with the rest of the sweatshirts. "I never introduced myself yesterday."

The girl hesitated for a moment, eyeing the gesture much like a feral cat would, before eventually shaking his hand - firmly. "Sam," she responded. "As discussed."

"PUCKETT!" a voice bellowed across the chaos.

"That's my last name," Sam explained with a brazen grin, before turning in the direction of the speaker. "WHAT?"

"I DON'T SEE YOU WORKING!" the nasally voice sneered before its owner was accosted by an angry patron.

Sam rolled her eyes and looked back at Beck. "I don't see him working, but I don't grate HIS cheese about it," she muttered, making him chuckle (mostly at her turn of phrase).

"Well," he sighed, somewhat sadly, "I guess you better get back to work before you get fired."

"Oh goody," she replied dryly, and he laughed again while he helped her to rebalance the box. "Don't forget your moose, 'eh?" she added, a smirk dancing on her lips as she watched his puzzlement turn to understanding.

"It's not for me," he said quickly, picking up the stuffed animal by the nose.

"Sure..." Sam drawled out as she sauntered away, happy to have gotten some of the power back. For once she wasn't the one of the pair of them feeling stupid. Even if she was wearing a shirt that said 'you'll Fall for our prices'.

* * *

><p><strong>AN II - REVENGE OF THE A/N: Do you want a promo of what's next? Like how Dan Schneider does those promos that make you think the episodes going to be a certain way and then it totally isn't? Well, I don't have fancy edits so I can't be all sneaky and misleading, but I will say that the next chapter involves more of Beck and Sam together. In a confined space. What will happen? Beats me, I haven't written it yet. I should get on that...laters!**


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